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  1. This is the first real story I've written outside of school, but I think I'm pretty good at writing so please be brutal with any criticisms to bring my ego down to the correct level. Wendy's Dorm Room - 7:00 AM Wendy woke up to a familiar, yet still disappointing feeling. She pulled away her sheets and looked down at her legs to confirm. Sure enough, there was a large dark spot on the sheets centered on a similar one on the crotch of her otherwise light grey pajama pants. Wendy had wet the bed again. She sighed as she got out of bed to clean up. As she peeled off her wet panties, she glanced over to the corner in her closet that hid a small plastic package labeled "Goodnites." Her parents had managed to convince her to bring them to college, but she only wet once or twice a month, and felt that the protection they would provide on those nights wasn't worth feeling like a baby on all of the others. While Wendy didn't derive any positive emotions from wetting the bed, there was one upside to the situation, which was that she was able to get one of the coveted few "single rooms." Most freshmen were required to have a roommate, but all it took was a doctor's note and a few embarrassing conversations with various school faculty and Wendy was able to live by herself in a dorm room that had its own small bathroom. This was great for Wendy not only for the obvious reasons, but also because it gave her the privacy required to do what she does best. She pulled out a small, intricately carved wooden stick and pointed it at the wet pile of clothes and sheets on her bed. After uttering a few words in a language she only vaguely understands, Wendy flicked her wrist and the pile of dirty laundry no longer fit that description. Her now-exposed thighs, however, were still damp and a bit sticky, so she stepped in the shower to clean up. It was only then that Wendy realized just how frustrated she was with herself. "I'm in college now," she thought to herself, "why don't I have more control over my own body?" She let the water run down her naked body as she thought about what, if anything, she could do about this. The obvious solution was one that she had thought of many times before. In fact, it was what came to mind first whenever she had any problem whatsoever: magic. However, the number of spells she had access to was limited. She had already read through all of them even tangentially related to bladder control, and none of them were even close to what she needed. With that thought, she should have probably moved on to more mundane solutions, but something seemed to be stuck in the back of her mind. Due to the many visits to the doctor she had previously gone on, Wendy was intimately aware that part of the problem was the size and strength of her bladder. If she could fix that, her problem should go away. The issue is that spells that modify the human body are strictly forbidden for wizards under a certain age, due to the extreme complications that could arise (and had arisen many times before). Wendy, however, happened to know where her family kept the age-restricted spell books, and was just irritated enough to try something risky. That night, when her parents were asleep, she would finally stop her bedwetting for good. The Study - 11:49 PM Wendy cast a spell and stepped through her bathroom door into her father's study. Shelves of books lined the walls, but she didn't bother to glance at most of them; she knew where her target was. On the top of a shelf at the far end of the room sat a book mislabeled "Archeology for Dummies." Previous instances of snooping in this room had made her fully aware, however, that this book actually contained spells designed to modify human anatomy temporarily or permanently. It was entirely written in the same confusing, unintuitive language that spells were composed of, so finding the right spell would take some decoding. Around 30 minutes later, she had combed the table of contents enough to find a spell that just might work. It said something about making a single part of your body be "the same" as someone else's. Surely, all she had to do was pick someone with a stronger bladder, and she would be golden. Her best friend Kate seemed like a good fit. They were a similar height and weight, and Kate needed to use the bathroom much less frequently than Wendy. Wendy memorized the spell and started to put the book back on the shelf. "Wait," she thought to herself, "if I'm going to involve Kate in this, I need to make sure there's no way of it hurting her." She opened the book back up and checked a few things. After a few careful rereads and looking up some words, Wendy assured herself that the spell would only physically affect herself and that there wasn't a way for it to kill either of them. Content with that clarification, Wendy stepped through the bathroom door back to where it normally leads. She went to the bathroom, clearing out her bladder before what she had begun to think of as "the operation." She took off all of her clothes and stepped into the shower. Sometimes these things can get messy. With her wand pointed just below her belly button, she recited the spell while including "bladder," and Kate's full name in the appropriate spots. When the spell was finished, Wendy could feel a strange pressure in her body as her bladder started to change shape. She jumped a bit as a small squirt of pee forced its way out of her and splatted onto the shower floor. After a few seconds, however, she started to feel normal. "I hope that means it worked," she thought as she stepped out of the shower and got ready for bed. Wendy's Dorm Room - 7:00 AM - The Next Day Wendy woke up to a comfortable, dry bed and hoped that it wasn't just a coincidence. "I guess it might be a while before I know for sure," she thought to herself as she got up to go to the bathroom. She slid her panties off of her legs and sat down on the toilet. She started to pee as normal, but it felt slightly off. Even though the amount was the same, it almost felt like she was peeing twice at the same time. Maybe it was just her increased bladder capacity, or maybe she was simply overthinking things. Wendy wiped herself and started to change so she could get to class. Classroom 146 - 10:24 AM The day went by as it normally does for the most part, which was a good sign. Wendy sat in her introductory graphic design class, only half-listening to the lecture on color theory as she doodled idly in her notebook. "...the colors get warmer as...," the professor said as she realized her legs were also getting warmer. Horrified, she glanced down while trying not to draw attention to herself and tried to stop the flow. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do as warm urine spread out from between her legs. It soaked through the back of the navy-blue skirt that made up the bottom half of her school uniform and pooled into a puddle on her chair. It kept going, creeping down the chair leg and onto the floor by the time her bladder had finally emptied itself. Wendy didn't know what to do. She hadn't even needed to pee that badly. She felt the entire contents of her bladder soaking against her skin and had to hold back the urge to cry. Luckily, no one seemed to notice, so she sat in her chair, her face burning red as she waited for everyone else to leave. Eventually, everyone did leave, except for the professor. He would be staying in this room until his next class, and Wendy would have to walk right past him having clearly just peed all over herself. He looked to see why one of his students was still in their chair, and Wendy could tell from the empathetic concern on his face that he had noticed the mess. "I'll clean this up," she started to stutter, but he told her that a custodian would take care of it. Her face somehow turning even redder than before, she stumbled out of the classroom and into the bathroom to clean up. Then, as her thoughts finally had a chance to clear, an important one came into her mind: "Either Kate's bladder is a lot weaker than I thought it was, or I screwed up that spell." Kate's Dorm Room - 8:00 AM - Earlier that same day Kate woke up to an entirely unfamiliar feeling, one she had felt before but long forgotten about. She pulled away her sheets and looked down to see what it was. There was a large dark spot on her sheets centered on a similar one on the crotch of her otherwise light pink panties. Kate had wet the bed for the first time since she was potty trained. She reached down between her legs and felt the moistness that confirmed it. Her roommate's bed was empty, and she desperately hoped that she hadn't seen what transpired in the night. She got out of bed and removed her sheets so she could wash them. Hallway - 10:23 AM As Kate was walking back from her second class, she was still thinking about what had happened that morning. It wasn't like she had been drinking or anything. Was she sick? She didn't feel sick, but just in case, she decided to go to the bathroom now, in case it would sneak up on her. She pulled down her skirt and panties and started to pee. "Yep, I think there's something wrong," she thought. It felt different from normal, in a way she couldn't quite place. It was almost as if she was peeing twice at the same time. "Wait, that doesn't even make any sense. I'm probably just overthinking things." Not too long after, she got a call from her best friend, Wendy. Kate frowned. Nine times out of ten, if Wendy was calling her in the middle of the school day, it was because she fucked up a spell. She had told Kate about the whole magic thing a while back, and frankly, sometimes it seemed like only negative things had come from it. Kate answered the phone and listened to the voice of a Wendy who had possibly just been crying. "Hey Kate, I think I messed up." Wendy explained the entire situation, and just as Kate was making the mental note that it was now ten times out of eleven, she realized something. "I think I know what is going on, can you meet me in the bad bathroom?" Bad Bathroom - 10:40 AM Wendy had completely understood what Kate meant by the "bad bathroom." It was the one bathroom on campus that barely ever had anybody in it because of how gross and allegedly haunted it was. The "haunted" rumor was made up and reinforced by Wendy, who had cast a few spells to ensure she could have a space in the classroom building that nobody would walk in on. The bathroom had two stalls, which was all Kate apparently needed to test her hypothesis. "Just sit on the toilet in that stall and don't do anything." Wendy did as she was told and pulled down her still damp skirt. A few seconds later, a small jet of pee burst out of her without warning. Curiously, the sound it made when it hit the toilet was also coming from the stall that Kate was in. "I've figured it out," she said over the wall of the stall, "we're sharing the same bladder!" Parking Lot - 2:00 PM - 2 Days later As Wendy waited with Kate and the rest of the volleyball team for the bus to show up, she thought about her bladder. She had managed to coordinate going to the bathroom with Kate via text to avoid any further accidents while she tried to find a solution. All she had found so far was how to change whose bladder she was sharing, but frankly that wouldn't really help her much. The bus finally showed up and she sat down next to Kate. It would be a long ride to the game, and the stress was already starting to make her think she needed to pee again. It took about an hour for her to realize that thought was definitely correct, and she asked if they would be able to stop to use the restroom. "We've got a stop in about 30 miles" the bus driver responded. She was content with that answer. She wasn't too desperate yet. Half an hour later, the bus stopped at a gas station and everyone got out. "Make sure to use the bathroom if you need to," the coach said, "There isn't anywhere to stop after this besides our destination." Wendy and Kate didn't need to be told to go; they were the first ones off of the bus. Their faces sunk as they stepped inside the gas station and realized something: there was only one toilet. If one of them went, the other would be wetting themselves, and it wouldn't be worth the rumors that would start if they both went in at the same time. They both stepped aside, as if they hadn't needed to use the bathroom after all, and they tried to figure something out. By the time Wendy determined she would be willing to sneak out back and crouch down, it was already too late. Everyone else was getting back on the bus. The urge to pee grew as each minute passed. She realized there was too much time left in the trip to make it when her bladder started hurting. She squirmed in her seat and looked over to Kate making very similar motions. For a split second, her bladder released and a small wet patch appeared on her underwear. Kate appeared to jump a bit and turned to look at her, concerned and desperate. Wendy's mind raced as she thought of how she could get out of this. She felt so guilty for subjecting Kate to this, and her mind turned towards ways she could even just spare her the embarrassment. "I could sit on her lap," she thought "and then it might look like all of the pee was mine." No, that was a bit too ridiculous. "But what about something even more ridiculous?" Wendy looked over to Kate. "Cover me," she said as she slid down into the area in front of her seat. Kate, wondering what she was up to, held up the blanket she had on her legs to cover any line of sight the other passengers had to her. Wendy then pulled out her wand and said some words Kate didn't recognize. Well, maybe she did recognize a few words; one of them sounded like "bus." Wendy sat back up in her seat as she felt her bladder shift in the same way it had a few days before, and that was enough to release the floodgates. She closed her eyes and moaned slightly as a steady stream soaked through her volleyball shorts and onto the seat of the bus. She heard Kate's concerned squeal as the same thing happened to her. She felt confident that she had reduced Kate's embarrassment, however, because a gush of pee was coming from the crotches of everyone on the bus. A few moans, sighs, and startled yelps came from the various passengers as puddles of pee pooled onto the seats and its scent filled the bus. The streams slowed as Wendy regained control over her bladder, and an awkward silence filled the piss-soaked bus. Eventually they made it to the school of the team they would be playing against, and they all shuffled through the halls of the rival school towards the bathroom as a few members of the other team turned to each other stifling laughs. Wendy felt justifiably embarrassed, but also slightly proud. Now was no way anyone on the team would tell the school that she and Kate had pissed their pants.
  2. Curse of the Crinkle Crate Composed by Horatio Husky Featuring and Commissioned by Kazard the Fox! Chapter 1 The Box I… Want… Couch Time… Now… were the thoughts of a certain blonde-haired fox, as he absentmindedly fumbled with the keys to his small, cozy home. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyelids half open in a vacant stare as he maneuvered his key into the lock of his front door. The day had been absolutely miserable, all of his clients had been in a bad temper when he spoke with them about their problems, and one of them even seemed to believe that the fox didn’t really know what he was doing. Of course, he knew what he was doing! He’d graduated top of his class by no small miracle, the fox was very talented at his work, but the lack of appreciation and frustration that was thrust upon him by his clients was not something studying could have prepared him for. At last, the key turned, and the door swung wide open, shouldering his bag he strode inside and carelessly dropped it in the front hallway, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him with a click, locking it once more. Give… Me… That… Couch… thought the fox once more, as he strode into his living room. However, his couch did not seem to be on the agenda just yet, for the fox almost tripped over a wooden box in the center of the room. Kaz was taken aback, how had this gotten in his home? He didn’t remember lugging a rather plain, heavy looking wooden box into his home. Its dimensions were around two feet by two feet, and a foot and a half tall. Kneeling down, his tail now twitching with apparent interest and curiosity he inspected it closer to find that its lid was hinged, with the front opening to the container facing towards him. What on earth… Did somebody break in and leave this here? He thought to himself, as he reached forward with a paw and tentatively opened the strange box. The lid thumped onto his carpet as he gazed into what was held within the strange item, and was even more confused to see that the box only contained two items in it. A thick square of plastic upon closer inspection Kaz found to be a white, adult diaper, and a note next to it, written in fancy cursive. He picked it up, his eyebrows furrowing as he perused through a short poem, a strange feeling of warmth he didn’t recognize bubbling up in his insides as he did so. For a year and a day obedient shall you be, To the rules and whims of the box at your knee, Letters and rules shall be provided from these wooden confines, Giving you instructions, tasks, items, and lines, And lest you not listen to my behest, Shall you not have your day-to-day be the best! For control and independence are no longer yours From now you’ll always be clad in diapers! Diapers? Control? Is this all some sort of prank that got delivered into my house that one of my friends managed to sneak in? He turned the note over and found that more was written on the back of it, this time not in the mysterious cursive font as on the front. The rules are simple, Kazard. For a year and a day you will be completely unable to control your bladder nor your bowel, making it that at any time whatsoever, you will completely and utterly mess and wet yourself anywhere you are. Within this box, you will find your solution to this new conundrum in your life, which you have agreed to participate in by opening this box. Whenever you open this box you will be supplied with plain white diapers perfectly matched to handle whatever punishment you give them. It is recommended that you also invest in other supplies related to padding, such as powder and anti-rash cream, but those are up to your discretion. You may try and not wear your diapers, but you will find that it is wiser to comply with the rules and keep yourself nice and secure; your continence will not return either if you do not obey the rules set before you. If you wish to communicate with the box, you must do so through a bargain written on a note to express your wishes. However, be warned: the box is liable to interpret and balance any request or boon as it wishes if whatever you offer is not of equal value, so it may be wisest to obey as instructed and keep yourself diapered at all times of the day, otherwise, the consequences will be severe. With that, we hope you enjoy your next trip around the sun padded up! This has to be a joke… Boxes that interpret poetry and supply diapers whenever opened? This isn’t even a funny prank, this is pathetic. The fox dropped the diaper and note back into the box with contempt, what a stupid thing to waste his time with. He got up, the couch now forgotten as his stomach rumbled its hunger aloud to the room. He padded over to the kitchen, turning the kettle on and rummaging through his dry food cabinet, retrieving a large bag of chips. He held the bag in his maw as he stretched, reaching up to the higher shelf to grab himself a chocolate bar. It was just out of his reach, and he strained, leaning against the counter to support his weight as he grasped after his sweet. The counter must have been wet, however, for he looked down as he felt something damp against him. The bag of chips dropped out of his mouth and onto the counter below him. The counter hadn’t been wet, no. It was he who had gotten wet.
  3. Version 0.8.1

    6,605 downloads

    Note: This game is in alpha, meaning that the file will be updated frequently with new content, changes, and bugfixes. You may wish to follow the file so that you can be notified when it updates! (See also: this thread) There are tons of ABDL games out there which put the player into the role of a high schooler/child. Others see you start the game as an adult and regress into a child, while interacting with other "children" who have suffered the same fate. But what about those of us who are into desperation and diapers, but would prefer to remain an adult? What about those of us who want to engage in sexual content without involving minors, fictional or otherwise? Enter PANTS' Labyrinth. (With sincere apologies to Guillermo del Toro) This is a text-based adventure game which begins with your eventful entry to Penny's Adult Nursery / Training School. Accompanied by Penny, the labyrinth's eponymous caretaker, you, the player, will journey through a labyrinth filled with dungeons, dragons, ...and diapers. Will you be able to escape, or will you stay here forever? Note: Initially, this was intended to be a version of Sunny Paws Day Care without age regression, built from scratch. However, I later decided that doing so would restrict me from adding everything I wanted to add to the game. As a result, the first two areas are very similar to the first two areas of Sunny Paws Day Care (the latest version of which contains dialogue and general polish I added). I reached out to the original authors, and both gave permission to use any/all assets. If you're a fan of SPDC, you'll like both the familiar aspects and the original ones. "How do I play?" This game requires Quest 5 to play. You can download it here. Planned Features Seven different areas to explore, each littered with useful items and interesting interactives (2 completed so far) Eight different NPCs to befriend, each with their own design, dialogue, and one or more wetting/mess and/or sex scenes (which you have the option to opt out of based on kink preferences) (2 completed so far) Character art for every NPC- commissioned from artists across the NSFW community (2 completed so far) Inclusive gameplay - During character creation, you will enter your character's name, select their gender (Male/Female/Nonbinary), and select your genitals (to accommodate all players out there) (Completed) Realistic stats - Manage bodily needs, diaper attraction, continence, and even arousal while traversing the labyrinth. Wetting/messing erodes your continence, and your environment will If you run out of food, Penny can magic some up for you- but you may not like what it does... (Completed) Random encounters with over 20 different enemies, each with its own unique (3+) moveset, loss scene, and submit scene (7 completed so far, and encounter script is completed) Over 30 different pieces of equipment, including clothing, weapons, and 6 types of underclothes (10 completed so far, as well as all 6 types of underclothes) Over 100 different wetting/messing scenes, which consist of both text and (short) wetting/messing gifs, with different gifs (and scenes) for underwear, pull ups and diapers. Read the Changelog to see what's in the most recent version. Changelog This game is in alpha, meaning it will very likely have bugs which impact your enjoyment of the game. If you'd like to help me fix those bugs, please report them in this thread, preferably with screenshots attached. Thanks a ton! I hope you enjoy the game! (Upvote pls?) Last note: This game will always, always, always be available free of charge to everyone. However, all commissioned art is paid for out of my own pocket. So if you enjoy the game, or just want to throw a buck or two to the artist community (because let's be honest, quality art sure ain't cheap!), my Ko-Fi tip jar can be found here.
    Free
  4. So today i went to beach with my son we were having great time and i felt that i had to pee so decided to pee before we leave. We stayed there for about a hour after that i was pretty desperate so we took our stuff and head to the changing cabins that have toilets inside. I was literally crossing my legs while walking there and there was a line, it wasn't long there was like 2 or 3 people left so i decided to wait. I was regretting why i did not pee in the sea when i had the chance, i was pee dancing crossing my legs holding my crotch while leaking small amounts. Then the last guy in the line got in and while he was changing my bladder decided to give up. I started peeing full force in to my red bikini. I was super embarrased and glad there was only my son and another woman was around me i would be mortified if there was more people i got kind of lucky this time
  5. Went out of town for a day and I went to a ghost/paranormal/historical tour, it was a mixture of outside/inside. I had some drinks prior to arriving and during the tour. At one point I needed to go pretty bad but figured I'd hold it and be fine but of course it got worse as time went on. A few times a few spurts escaped so I quickly fought it, I walked around taking pictures as I listened to the tour guide as I tried not to make it obvious I had to pee so bad. We were outside when another spurt escaped so I wiped my inner thigh with my hand for some reason when I felt how wet I was. I instantly panicked like "oh s***" when a huge spurt once again escaped for about 5 seconds,I tried to stop it,few more escaped but finally managed to get it under control. My pants were becoming soaked. Thankfully this was at night time. I kept letting go as the tour went on and at one point,I acted like I was tying my shoe so I just crouched down and released some more thru my pants. I couldn't believe how much I was pissing myself. Near the end of the tour I had to go so bad I just couldn't hold it anymore,it started to flow down my legs,my pants were soaked already as well as my shoes. After it was over i just completely flooded my pants. The drive home was interesting, I had to stop for gas and just decided to own it and not act embarrassed. I released a bit as I was pumping gas and the drive home I just pissed myself in my seat whenever I had to go.
  6. I've had accidents in public both in uniform and in civilian clothes. From wetting to a few messing accidents, not sure what stories others want to hear about first. I've had accidents when others were around and when also nobody was. I hope everyone is doing well!
  7. (Hi everyone! I'm back again with a second attempt at an interactive story! This one has a lot more story though. I'm leaving these open-ended though. I might put certain choices, but mostly it will be all up to you. I know this isn't the place to say it, but try to make your answers and stuff make sense. Hard to work with an answer that wont make sense. If there's a tie in answers I'll decide which one goes. It'll usually be the one that advances the plot more. Thanks for reading this!) The Plot: Saria's life is a big part of this I say.. But the big later on story is...: Saria stumbles upon a mysterious book and gets pulled into an ancient world. The world is facing a big threat so it's up to Saria and her party members to save it. Chapter 1: A terrible night's sleep. The time was 10 PM, Saria laid in her bed trying to fall asleep. Her mind kept drifting from the sound of her parents arguing to the sound of the water running upstairs. She felt the need to pee, but she really didn't want to leave her room with her parents arguing. She was so glad to be moving out soon. The screaming got worse and worse. Her parents used to be happy together... What changed? After an hour or two, she managed to fall asleep, but she woke up at 3:24 AM to a warm wet feeling in between her legs and all over the bed. Saria quickly jumped up, but she couldn't stop herself her pee continued to flow out until she shoved her fingers into her pee-hole. This never has happened before, sure she's used to going to sleep while needing to pee, but it never leaks. Her pajamas are soaked and she doesn't know what to do. Her bed is soaked. She decides to waddle to the bathroom making sure to do it very quietly. Even though she was 19 her parents still hated her being awake late. They would surely punish her for being awake this late. Saria makes it to the bathroom, but the door is locked. She's not sure why, until she glances around the area and sees shattered dishes and scratches on the wall. Saria's mom was hiding herself in the bathroom. Saria sighed and walked back to her room. Their upstairs bathroom was in the middle of being worked on so the door was definitely locked. Saria still had to pee badly. She didn't know what to do. What should Saria do? You guys get to choose what she does. Open-ended. Plot advancers: 1.) Finish peeing in clothes 2.) Try to hold it until morning 3.) Knock on the bathroom door 4. Go pee outside (The plot advancers guarantee the story moves on. Your choices usually will as well. These act as recommendations in case you can't think of anything. I have a lot of lore and decisions planned. I encourage everyone who reads this to vote on something. It'll make the story better and more frequent. That's it.)
  8. I just wrote this short story on the fly. ————————————————————— Dreamy Jacuzzi She found herself slowly drifting away, in the creeping blanket of darkness, found beneath closed eyelids; and just at the cusp of nothingness, a tiny wiggle nods to what’s left of her awareness. She almost is convinced it didn’t occur for real, that it was the beginning of some dream—but then it wiggles again, and she perceives it coming from the outside, not from her mind, but from below her stomach. There it is again, her eyebrows wrinkle over shut eyes as her lower abdomen tingles, its ringing traveling down into her vagina. She realizes she in fact did not go before bed, her pee pressing into her sphincter, and her taint grows warm underneath its surface. Her pelvis jerks, twitching when she clenches away her urge to pee. She tries to go back to sleep. Then, again, as she veers off the edge of consciousness, another wiggle flickers in her mind; and again she’s unable to determine whether it’s a dream or if it’s real. This time believing it’s a dream. Unaware she tapped into an odd lucid-like state, where she feels aware of the fact she’s dreaming and can control it as she sees fit. Then, suddenly, again her mind is wiggled: an emanating warmth sitting in the depths of her vagina. She’s not sure what could be so warm and familiar yet so unknown to her at the same time. She prods her fingers over the outskirt crevices between her outer lips and thigh inseams. They consequently grow tender, just like the warmth that wiggled her mind. And then, again, her mind is flooded with warm wiggles, and in her dream state felt a rush of warmth sing out from her pelvic lips. However, unbeknownst to her, in reality, she’s entirely loosened her sphincter to a full bladder of piss. She sleeps in bed without the need for panties — for her, panties make her sleeping experience uncomfortable; always wedging into her vagina and butt whenever she tosses and turns in bed — and hardly even uses her blanket when sleeping. Her petite, bare-shaven lips were pressed into her light-blue bedsheet when the first few drops of her liquid yellow began dribbling out from between her folded crotch, darkening a dribble-worthy node of dark-blue between her tender upper inseams. After about five seconds, another few drops oozed out and quickly developed into a light-yellow trickle, delicately pooling around the skin surrounding her tender lips and upper thigh inseams. And as with all soft brooks, hers began to swiftly strengthen thereafter, the pool around her silently growing, darkening, deepening, seeping upwards and towards her lower abdomen, past her hood and pubic bone, and warming her smooth pale bare-shaven pubic area, and eventually forming a dark-blue pooling moat escaping laterally out from below her love-handles. And whilst her lips cozily pressed into her bedsheet released her hot liquid, she shifting her right thigh, initially its front skin laying flat and pressing into the gradually-soaking bedsheets, is moved closer to her right lower waist. Upon doing so, she elevates her gushing lips out of the pool it had been steadily and gently growing, and above the shallow waters it has been forming, revealing the audible strength of her urination: softly hissing out of its tender opening and its hot stream burbling its waters into the hot pool of dark-blue below her. Her streaming burbles become deeper as the pool grows, thus far throughly soaking the sheets past her lower abdomen and now creeping up her upper abdomen, trickling to below her moderately-sized breasts and softly channeling in between them. Finally her hissing lips dissipate, and the burbling fizzles out as her bladder fully spreads all of its hot gold beneath her front torso, pelvis and legs. Back to her dream state, she sees herself relaxing in a jacuzzi, enjoying the heat-intensive waters stroking her breasts and massaging her waist, and easing the rest of her body from tension. She lays her head back against the jacuzzi walls and softly smiles with satisfaction.
  9. ————————————————————— it’s been a while since I posted a fictional story. Actually, I started many during this hiatus, but ended up deleting many of them because I’d lose motivation. So, I took a break. Seems I needed it as this story is a whopping 9-10 pages long, according to Microsoft Word. I didn’t want to create chapters, so you all can simply read the whole thing in one go without having to wait for each chapter. Once again, as in a previous story of mine, “she” is unnamed so that whoever you are, if you so desired, can call her whomever you’d like: a crush, a girlfriend, a wife, whoever; I leave her identity at my readers’ discretion. Any edit history will be with respect to typos I find as I re-read my work in this post. It’s long, so typos are inevitable. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed detailing it. ’Til next time.. ————————————————————— Driving Disaster Although she had stopped at the rest-stop and gone in for some beverages, her anxiety with using public restrooms prevented her from going. Her bladder reminded her that the toilet is only a door away, but she refused as her anxiety flared in her chest. She purchased the beverages and as she approached the exit, her bladder whispered into her mind: “last chance, turn around..” But she ignored it, walking through the sliding doors; and whilst she walked to and approached her car, she can hear her bladder yelp into her mind: “No! No!, please go back! You have a chance!” And once again, she shook her head, refusing to acknowledge her opportunity. Her anxiety just told her to wait it out. After all, she just had to wait another fifty miles or so, then she’d reach the motel she planned to stay in for the night; then she can go pee. However, now that she was back on the road, her urging bladder slowly began creeping out of her belly, building until sufficient tingle remained constant in her lower abdomen. She clenched her sphincter muscles in response, but it didn’t go away as fast as prior to her break at the rest-stop. Her mind began to second-guess her anxiety, after noticing it took longer for her clenching to make the tingles go away: “perhaps a public restroom isn’t so bad?” But as soon as the question rang in her mind, just as fast sprung her anxiety about even considering the opportunity and picturing herself doing so. And though her mind reassured her, and gave her some confidence that she could make it, the extent of her distended bloated belly: — considering that she was wearing a flow-y red floral dress, was yet noticeably jutting out — “maybe it was just the way I’m sitting”, she reflected when noticing her large stomach. Suddenly while thinking — thinking she could perhaps make it — her bladder urge arrives faster, no longer gradually creeping its way, and contracts, sending strong tingles urging her to open her sphincter downwards into her perineum. “Ooooff..”, she mouths, then purses her lips. She squints her eyes, not outright squeezing them shut — since she knows wouldn’t be able to see the road had she fully closed them — and bites her incisors down on her bottom lips. Her head lightly twitches, tilting to the left when the tingles in her perineum grow upwards and sit at on top of her pubic bone. “Ahhh..”, her mind winces as growing tingles agitate, ringing her awareness like cellphone that won’t let up. Careful not to have it affect her driving foot, she presses her milk-tea thighs together, shoving her dress in between the middle inseams thereof with her left hand, all but her thumb, which, though insignificant, caresses her right thigh over the dress. She wrinkles her eyebrows and tells herself to focus on the road, while her pressing thighs squeeze its tension into her and against the constant wave yearning to overcome the flood walls. The tingles grow further upwards and sit just above her pubic bone: her lower abdomen muscles briefly twitch beneath. She responsively clenches harder as a burning sensation overwhelms her and keeps like so for thirty seconds, until finally she feels it start to subside, slowly retreating away into the depths of her swollen belly. Although she hides her bladder away, it irritation bloats her belly with pressure. She covers another five miles before her bladder comes knocking again, this time more prepared to defeat her hold. She felt her innards expand beneath that full belly. Though her thighs were already together, and only lightly pressed — having relaxed them thus far, after the prior hold — she resumed their prior tension, but her contracting bladder only shot more tingles into her perineum; so she responded with tighter squeezing, but with no avail: her tingling only growing stronger and crawling back up the front of her, forcing her pelvic lips to shrink inwards as she instinctually clenches her muscles very tightly. “Oooo! Come on, come on, come on! Why won’t you just let uppp!”, arguing with her bladder while clenching her teeth. She so badly wants to bring her feet together and closer so that she may stomp them in place alternatively, but her right foot is too preoccupied with the gas pedal. Instead, her left foot starts to pace, side-to-side, while left knee jams tightly into the other one. She shoves her left hand back in between the middle of her thighs, all fingers in this time. Her palm facing her inner right thigh, it grasps onto its sensitive skin and squeezes. It feels moist, her inner thighs no doubt red as they remain together and sweating, her dress absorbing some of it. And though her foot continues to dance and her left arm pressing its hand into her right thigh, the burning beneath her perineum returns: her bladder is vehemently contracting its hot sloshing pee into her walls. She covers two miles in her unrelenting desperation, until the drop of sweat riding down her forehead and delaying in her right eyebrow notifies her just how desperate her situation is: she’s sweating though the air conditioner is running. She removes her left hand to caress her lower left thigh, but as quick as she does so just as quick the tingles get worse, so she shoves her hand back in, but this time against herself: all the way down to the perineum, and it’s a whole swamp though she clasps herself over her dress. Another rushing tingle smashes into her perineum, and she softly moans: “Mmmph..”, her breath immediately stifling thereafter. She bites her right corner lip and rubs her left inner knee against her right, debilitated by the gas pedal. And, still, that burning feeling persists. She starts circling herself, immediately bringing in waves of pleasure—“No, no!.. I don’t want this..”, her mind demands to shake free, and her denying head signals. She stops herself, but her mind is reminded by her bladder’s unwavering fight. So she resumes. She circles again, and upon friction her eyelids weaken and bottom lip retreats, pressing itself into her upper teeth. She knows she doesn’t want to, but knows she needs something, anything, to help her ignore her bladder. And successfully she suppressing her urge, though it’s still there, masked under the brush of pleasure. She softly moans through bitten bottoms lips, squeezing her upper inner thigh muscles together and smothering the hand in between doing its work; but suddenly and accidentally her right foot pleasurably twitches, pressing on the gas pedal and accelerating her car suddenly forwards. She eyes escape her weak eyelids, widening to full attention while kicking her distracting hand out her moist self and onto her steering wheel. Her right foot immediately going for the brake and slams on it, overreacting. She doesn’t come to a stop, only significantly slowing herself down, but sufficient enough to throw her forward and accidentally squeezes a weak light-yellow spurt out from her raging bladder, soaking her light-pink panties warm. She doesn’t even feel it happen with the adrenaline rushing through her arteries. Only after coming back to her senses does she encompass a slightly cool clinging substance pressing in between her upper inner thighs. Her jaw flings open before a loud gasp blurts out, shocked she got herself so distracted to do this to herself. She quickly glances below, finding the red of her tucked dress against her soaked lips now dark red, having peed through her panties and into her red dress. “Fuck.. not the dress..”, her face wrinkles and inner voice disappointingly remarks. She quickly lifts the end of the dress settled halfway down her thighs up to her lower abdomen, untucking the wet spot out from between her wet lips, partially revealing them soaked through the translucent wetness of her now dark-pink panties. Dark-pink across the entire width and a nigh-dismissible circular dark patch hiding below her perineum and beneath her nigh-touching upper inner thighs: her pee got into the fabric of her dress below her pelvis. “Ahh, fuck, no! I so got it onto the seat!”, she scolds herself aloud. She slides her left hand between her wet upper inner thighs until the tips of her fingers touch the dress trapped between her butt and the seat, confirming she’s indeed wet the dress below her. “Ugh, nooo..”, her head shakes. One would think a light release would alleviate the pressure in her belly yet all this time she’s kept herself clenched whilst investigating her predicament, holding against an even more furious bladder, spoiled by its brief squirt of ecstasy and whining for more. “Ooo, come on, what is wrong with you..?”, she berates her swollen belly, her lifted dress revealing just how bloated she is and how red her skin has become. Her face winces and shrinks, eyes squinting and nose wrinkling with pursed lips as her spoiled bladder slams a wall of tingles into her sphincter, feeling her perineum burning with a vehement burning: it’s as though a kindling has been ignited between her upper inner thighs. And though the momentum of her hot flow burns into her sphincter, as if pressing a cigarette into her arm, a sensation having spread and now covering the whole front of her quivering lips, her soaked clinging panties have grown cold from the air conditioner running in her car. There’s nothing more enticing for release than a crotch burning to pee whilst covered in its cold remnants. Her lower belly, just above her pubic bone, begins to twitch micro-contractions again, a result of holding back her burning sphincter for a prolonged amount of time. They flutter out therefrom, converting into goosebumps that rumble like rolling stones against her skin. Prickling up her bloated belly and waist, up her breasts — wrinkling her nipples — and a portion diverging under her arms to the small of her back, finally converging back with the front at her trapezius muscles: her shoulders consequently shivering violently and the hairs on the back of her head standing up. Involuntarily, her head jerks and stoops forwards; she softly moans again, then shakes her head with annoyance, thinking she must look like she’s some possessed freak, contorting in her car. She slams her left leg back into her right, and casts its shin underneath her right calf muscle. She begins to swing it from beneath and out, over and over: every time her left shin is back underneath, she delays her leg there and twists her left foot over her right ankle, squeezing her twizzlered left leg tightly around her right, especially around her right thigh, trying warm her cold crotch with squeezing tension. She repeats this twizzler-ing process enough to slightly warming her cold self. And simultaneously, she compels her bursting bladder into obscurity, though its tingling only partially ringing into her awareness. She covers another twenty miles, committing to her twizzlered procedure another five more times during her commute. However, just short of the twenty-mile mark, she finally gains some peace of mind, relaxing, though keeping her thighs together, when no tingles emanated out from her belly, only feeling the pressure of her bloat. It was when she had covered just over twenty miles that her peace of mind was so short-lived: when a very sharp pang of pain radiated out of her right waist, she responsively throws her shoulders back and arches her back like a banana thinking a stretch would make it go away, but she only had made it worse. Upon arching her back, she inversely stretched out her bloat belly, sending a strong flowing urge swiftly into her crotch. She instinctively hunches forward as soon as she feels a few drops slip passed her sphincter and into her urethra. “Haaaa, no! No!.. fuckkk..”, as her leaking drops glide down her urethra, whilst her cut stream lags behind her clenched sphincter, and oozes out of her opening: they spread a short blanket of warmth into her cold-soaked panties, and the slight warmth spilling onto her cold skin shivers her whole body with heated pleasure. It’s like snuggling by a heater after having finished shoveling snow. Her mind soothed by the warmth ridding her crotch of its soaked coldness, but she is quickly thrusted back into the reality of her burning sphincter, to which her mind subconsciously dictates: “Just let go.” She bites her bottom lips just thinking about another spurt of hotness filling the coldness between her thighs, but shakes her head in refusal as she can’t release onto her seat, and especially not in her car, at least not any more. Yet, again, her subconscious prods into her awareness. “Just a little..?” She briefly squeezes her eyes shut while shaking her head again in refusal. “NO! No!..”, she refuses aloud to herself. And yet the downward flow of tingles only increases, reinforcing her subconscious urge. Her eyes begin to lightly water in its outer corners, blurring her vision whilst driving. She wipes her tingle-induced tears, but her eyes only burn upon being wiped and release more, not realizing her left hand had earlier touched her soaked self. Another wave of combined tingles rush down into her cold crotch, whilst her thighs begin to quiver with cold-inducing goosebumps. She begins scooting herself to the front of her seat and then back, allowing her to shift and rub her inner thighs against each other, though at the expense of her waist slightly twisting and irritating her yearning bladder. “Arrgh! Haa, Hoo, ooh! Come on, come on, just twenty more miles, just twenty more to go..”, she groans and exhales with every utterance. She looks as though she’s dancing in her seat with her shifting, getting closer to the steering wheel, then further, then closer, and so forth. But suddenly a massive urge smashes into her crotch, forcing her to freeze and stop shifting, needing to focus all her attention on tightly clenching herself still. She holds still, but her belly expands more. She clenches her pelvis muscles tighter, yet the burning only increases. With all her might, she presses her thighs so tightly together whilst clenching her sphincter her stillness ever so slightly fidgets from sheer rigidity. And though she holds herself in place like so, she can’t help but lose control over her breathing, gradually hyperventilating as she feels a few drops begin to leak passed her rigid self: “No!.. No!.. Come on!.. ooooOOOOH!.. mmmmMMMM!..”, she moans exasperatedly. Her mouth opens wide as if she’s silently orgasming whilst her warm drops seep down her urethra and spill its warmth over her cold skin, massaging her subconscious. Then another few burning drops seep past her clenched sphincter, though she’s frozen still as a block of ice. Her fidgeting turns into shaking, her muscles losing their constant-clenching strength, as though fatigued and shaking whilst doing one last weight-lifting pump. Her drops glide down her urethra and once again spill out of her opening, warming her cool skin. Her subconscious beckons: “You’re on your last legs.. just give in to this soothing warmth..” She shakes her head in denial, refusing to acknowledge she might just explode right in her seat for a minute of steamy hotness encroaching her cold lips. Her bladder having leaked twice, pushes full throttle, and, instead of drops, a trickle presses through from between the seams, her sphincter weakened by the part of her wanting to indulge her subconscious. “Haaw!..”, she orgasmically moans as hotness tantalizingly fingers it petrissage into her cold lips. “Mmmm..”, she suppresses the rest of her moan as she bites onto her bottom lips, whilst her yellow warmth flood the crevice between her outer lips and inner thighs. Her body shakes violently whilst this brush of warmth fills her cool panties. She accidentally floors her right foot onto the gas pedal as her body is tantalized with heated pleasure, which its accelerated jerk snapping her mind out of its hypnosis: she tries her best to clench harder. Consequently, her hyperventilation resumes as she fully acknowledges just how wet her upper inner thighs feel whilst her semi-loose-though-clenched, burning sphincter holds back the trickle. “Haa, Haa.. mmMM! Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!..”, she exasperatedly belches as her bladder responsively strongly contracts back into her hold. Her pelvic lips, though shrunk inwards because of her clenched sphincter, once again involuntarily expand without her permission, causing her eyes to fill with tears of pleasurable release and her throat orgasmically expand, belching out a load moan of relief: “Haawyyeaaarrggh—MMMmmmm!!”, cutting her yelp once again behind bitten lips, letting the rest of it out as exhalation through her nose. Her hot flow harshly breaks through her weakened self, its yellow waters burning against her urethra walls and hissingly gushes into her dark-pink panties. It shines with exquisite light-yellow glow, exposing her red lips from sheer wetting-induced translucence, shifting the dark-pink spread-front upwards in a semi-circle fashion over her pubic bone and towards its panty waistline. Meanwhile, light-yellow pools between her panty-covered lips and pressed upper inner thighs, trickling down the makeshift milk-tea-colored channel in between her thighs, moderately streaming down the channel and spilling out from between her inner knees, spattering audibly onto the rubber carpet mat between her calves — a few drops trickle down her left calf, down the inner side of her shin and ankle, but suspend there — while her spattering yellow on the mat splatters its drops onto the insides of her shins. “Haa, Haa, fuck! Damn it! How can this be happening?!”, she yells at herself aloud, in disbelief that despite clenching as tight as she could her body just ignored all her effort. After splattering onto her shins, she finds wherewithal to cut her forced stream, hurting her urethra and sphincter as it burns. Her bladder having released for the first time a considerable amount, though still nothing compared to what remains in her belly, is satisfied for now, her stream-cutting clench capable of pulling back her urge, though is retreats with resistance. Seeing as she’s lost control twice, she floors it, becoming incredibly worried that she might empty herself with short bursts before she gets to her motel. She covers another ten miles without a peep of strong tingles, though receiving them nevertheless but weaker since her double release satiated her bladder. While covering this distance she gets a good idea of just how much she released: though her thighs were clenched enough to channel her warmth down its inner skin, half of her stream seeped down her soaked panties into her perineum and butthole, and pooled in those crevices, eventually passing through her dress and absorbing into the car seat below her. Having just passed ten miles, with thirteen remaining, another weak tingle creeps out from the depths of her belly. Before, it was her cold lips that yearned for reheating warmth, but now it was her inner thighs and perineum, though the latter was less cold than the former by virtue of her squeezed, folded crotch keep her body heat insulated therein. The weak tingle begins grow, this time, into stronger tingles, her bladder becoming hunger once again for release, beneath her belly and soon enough her thighs begin jiggling again. She swings her leg thigh vehemently back and forth, and so badly wants to move her right leg but can’t. Every time her left thigh swings wide open, a rush of cool air replaces the escaping warm air leaving her crotch and inner thighs. When she swings herself shut, the coldness of her inner left thigh presses into her right leg. She shivers again as the cold extracts goosebumps out of her skin It seems no matter what maneuver she tried, something was enticing her bladder to piss out its warming goodness. She slides her left hand across the front of her cool soaked panties, clasping herself tightly and pressing into her clenched self whilst continuing her swinging: at least she can keep some of her warmth tucked beneath her hand. As the tingles grow stronger, sure enough the burning returns, but this time her sphincter hasn’t got the energy to continuously hold her bladder back, and her subconscious exhausted much of its patience. It doesn’t take much time, clenched or unclenches, until a few drops begin to slip past her once again, oozing out of her urethra and spilling out onto her skin: it’s warmth spreading across herself and into the palm of her left hand in very brief pulses. Consequently, she starts swinging her left thigh harder, loudly smacking her jiggling left thigh into her right and turning her skin tender and red thereby, but more drops continue softly pulsate out of her and brief intervals of warmth spreading across her skin and the palm of her hand. And though she tinkles tiny drops, each time she holds them back to mere drops, her bladder invigorates with pressure. She tries to clench harder, but her sphincter refuses to tighten any further; and so as the pressure in her belly began to build up considerably and she occasionally releasing drops, she inevitably began to let out dribbling trickles instead of drops. “Haa!.. Haa!.. Haa!.. Hooo-ho-ho-ho, no, no, No, No, NO!..”, she began exhaling as the pressure reached a threshold, then started uncontrollably trickling without be able to effectively cut herself off. Her darkened pink panties fully soaked to waistline, her wet front having travelled over time, begins to twinkle grain-like glistening as her weak trickling slowly starts to shine through her panties, whose warmth-covered lips quiver as her weak sphincter muscles twitch with fatigue. Her bladder thoroughly entice, begins to fully contract, and her trickling grows strong without her permission. Her panties shine and lips become visible via translucence whilst her upper inner thighs flood with warmth. “Oooo! NO, NO, NO! WHY WON’T IT STOPPP!”, she yells to herself. She abruptly pulls over onto the side of the road, and bolts out of her driver’s side door. As she attempts stand up, she hunches forward and strongly hisses into her trickle-flooded panties and dress as she stumbles to feet outside her car. She has no wherewithal to clench herself as she’s standing, continuing to hiss into her panties, which are so fucking soaked a stream remains strong through the fabric, sloshing out her hot piss whilst her jiggling, narrowed-trickling-stream-covered inner thighs audible smack together, releasing that distinct sound of burbling squelches as flow is displaced by meeting skin. Her full-streaming self covers her knee-high red dress with streaks and splotches of dark red — not to mention the glaringly-glistening large jaggedly-circular splotch on the rear of her dress after continuously trickling into her car seat — soaking her dress, and leaking rapid messy drops of piss out and about from its end as she paces around her car to the other side, so that she could squat. Whilst she pace around the trunk of her car, her opening jiggling thighs allowed her stream to hiss without upper-inseam restriction, hosing out a direct strong stream of light-yellow perfectly out from between her thighs and loudly smack and patter the light-grey asphalt between her feet, splatter her piss onto the latter and onto the insides of her ankles and shins. This happens once more before she lifts her dress and squats. She bends down, totally out of breath and without an ounce of shame, lifts her dress and keeps it in place with one hand while pulling her totally-soaked panties with the other left hand to left and into her inner left thigh, pissing her strong stream into the fingers of her left hand as it pulls away the fabric. She loudly groans and exhales as her strong stream considerably strengthens when she fully relaxes, light-yellow flying far into the sandy dust at the side of road, loudly pattering into it. Her opening audibly hissing its high-pitch music as it vibrates out of her inner piss-soaked lips. Her piss rushes out, expanding out vertically from between her inner thighs. Eventually, her hissy gush dulls as her stream weakens, drawing a dark-grey line in the ground towards her as she nearly empties her bladder, until her lips weakly flow its light-yellow like a drinking water fountain that dribbles onto its own spout, her warm trickles finally lacking forward momentum and dribbling down her perineum and into her butthole, weakly trickling out therefrom and off her the bottom of her butt cheeks, forming a small of dark-grey asphalt beneath her pelvis. “A-A—Ahhhh!.. mmmm..”, her sigh of emptied relief stutters, then bitten bottoms lips beckon out from her nose. “Fuck. The car!..? How am I gonna drive the car now?!?!”, her mind alarmed, but so relieved of pressure is unable to determine a solution. She eventually drives her seat-soaked car to her motel, and changes in her car into something else more presentable; finally getting to her room, in which the first order of business was a hot shower. “Oh, wait, about am I going to do about the car?”, she remembers under the rain of the shower-head. “Ugh, tomorrow.. I’ll worry about it tomorrow..”, she too tired to bother..
  10. From the album: bfdi omorashi art

    gelatin had way too much to drink and he tried to make it to the best of his ability but it just didn't work out and he's now trying to get at least a bit of pee in the toilet but.... clearly the floor got more urine than the toilet did
  11. It's embarrassing for one of the sisters. Thanks to Nao Cell for the art

    © Gelbooru.com

  12. Summary: A female clubber is bursting for the bathroom while on a long bathroom qeueue. When she can't hold it any longer, she proceeds to take matters into her own hands before having an accident. Plot: Damn it! How long is this line going to be. I have to pee sososo bad." Gwenndolinne Masterson thought to herself. Since 12 midnight until now (1 am), she waiting on line for the ladies' room inside the Pheonix night club. As usual, Gwenndolinne was bursting beyond belief and needed to urinate so badly. The pressure just kept mounting upon her bladder as well as her poor urethra. Gwenndolinne always indulged in a good time at night clubs. She loved the music, dancing, good food, and the liquids. Specifically, she loved the soda, fruit punch, and red wine. Gwenndolinne just can't help herself and in the presence of these liquids, she consumes lots of it with her food. And she just can't help but ignore her need to go until she is severely desperate to bursting. And right now she was bursting big time. Gwenndolinne bobbed up and down, keeping her right leg double crossed, standing bent over, fighting her incessant wave of desperation. The pressure just kept mounting as all the fluids and food collected into her urethra. "Damn it why is this line not moving. Hey get outta there!" Gwenndolinne shouted followed by an "Oh no-nononononono no no oh no." Gwenndolinne almost spurted from speaking loudly and with passion. She had to go and soon or else. The line didn't move much except for 7 people out of what was a total of 25 people. There were 18 people still in front of her and it was pretty clear this line wasn't going to move any faster. One 21-year old girl in place #4 near the door was holding her crotch and bobbing up and down, couldn't take it anymore. "Excuse me excuse-" but she was cut short by the person at the door entrance. "A-a (shaking her head in a no-way manner)! Get to the back of the .... seriously?" The girl replied "I can't hold it. I just can't hold it oh gaawwd!" running inside while unable to stop wetting herself. Her trail of desperation was followed by complaints and cursing. One woman (40 years) said "Yeah kid run inside! If I wasn't desperate, I would-ah (wincing) eeeeeemmmmmmmmmm ....". Gwenndolinne Masterson couldn't believe what she saw. Here she was and number 19 on the line. And yet some girl jumped the line. "Who was this bimbo that grabbed her ticket for relief?" Gwenndolinne wondered. Gwenndolinne couldn't handle the proverbial smack in the face as her wave of desperation was made worse by her bladder contracting. It was as if her bladder saw this and protested with anger. Gwenndolinne applied more pressure against this pressure by contracting her urethra even more. She was already in so much pain and had to endure more. "This reminds me of the time I had to wait for Piper to get out of the bathroom and I had to piss in the garbage bag.". (Please see my fiction Desperate Morning). Gwenndolinne Masterson kept telling herself she would make it soon so as to not make her need worse. But time was ticking forward. It was 1:15 pm and still only two persons went inside while the girl from before (wetting herself) still didn't come in. The other woman (from before yelling at the pissing girl) couldn't take it anymore and ran inside. Since she was ..... well ... as big as Nyla Rose (AEW wrestling star) who could stop her as she pushed everyone out of the way. One girl (22 years old) lost her footing and landed on her butt. Sadly she began urinating in her jeans. "Noooooooooo!" the girl screamed. Gwenndolinne continued to bob and pee dance while leg double crossed online. At one point, her need became such an unnatural wave of desperation that cause her to crouch down. Wincing, teeth clenching, and whimpering, Gwenndolinne had to muster more of her strength not to let a single drop escape her. She has had accidents before but this time she wanted to avoid that. She wasn't going to let herself be (as her friends call her) Peeing Gwen. She hated that and she hated her stupid gluttonous nature for waiting too long at this point. She was determined to stay dry. After 20 seconds, she got her need under control but her urethra was paining her. She desperately wanted relief and wished the line moved faster. Suddenly, she and others could hear yelling inside the ladies' room. The female nearest the door could hear this. "You toilet hog! We need the toilet and you're enjoying phone sex? I just pissed myself and you just wave it off. That's it!". "Screw you!". Female bouncers came into the bathroom and hurried both women out. Two went in as three came out. Gwenndolinne was still trying to keep it together for the next 40 minutes. In that time she kept thinking positive thoughts, such as the time she went fishing with her father up-state. She remembered how peaceful it was and how quiet the environment behaved. This thought always helped to calm her nerves no matter the situation. But how long would it last? During this 40 minutes, another female (27 years) with jet-black hair, stiletto heels, a revealing top and a micro-mini skirt couldn't take it and ran off the line. She grabbed a huge beer mug from a customer about to ask for more beer. She lifted up her skirt and shoved the mug into position and released her pent up ocean. "Yes yes oh yes y-yes sweet relief. Oh man!". The customer behind her shouted at her to clean the mug while the staff told her to pay for damages. She casually waved her hand stating she was rich and would pay easily. At the end of the 40 minutes, Gwenndolinne couldn't take it anymore. Her will power was not enough to deal with the wave of desperation that reached super ultra maximum pressure against her poor urethra. Something had to give. And it could be her body that badly screamed neurotransmitters to let go like you wouldn't believe. Her mind lost it. She ran off line and looked for a plant pot or a corner not occupied. She began resorting to her frantic foolish self she tried to avoid becoming. She looked all over and saw not a single plant pot or an unoccupied corner that no one would see in her. She ran out the door and looked both sides. To her right was never ending buildings with alleys that were filled with people already. To her left was the same thing, except for one alley that seemed to be devoid of anyone. "Perfect!" she said to herself and ran over there. Gwenndolinne was overcome with much relief and wanted to get there asap. But she had to be careful not to cause herself to have an accident. She was wearing strappy shoes with heels and each step she took combined with her ectasy for relief and her need to go threatened to cause her to go. But she remained focused and made it to the alley of question. "Finally." Gwenndolinne cried with a smile only to find men taking a bathroom trip or vomiting. She was horrified by the horrible sight of biological waste and the numerous people. There was no privacy. And worse! The alley had a bad odor. Some looked like they were not from tough neighborhoods while others were skinny guys just waiting to be punched. Gwenndolinne stood there swaying her knees while bent forward, thinking about her next move. But where was she going to go. Suddenly, she felt a small dribble travel down the middle and that ended her indecisiveness. She ran past all the weirdos and seedy people, ran into the darkened areas of the alley and stopped behind a trash can. She saw the ground had a pot hole leading into the sewage. She made up her mind. Gwenndolinne positioned herself over this pot hole and readied to lower herself when another wave of desperation so powerful it nearly punched a jet of her pent up golden falls. She winced and gritted her teeth so hard she might have as well as caused her teeth to travel back upwards. "Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" she whimpered. This wave immobilized her to the extent that she felt moving might cause her to leak. But her resolve finally took over and she lowered herself. She lifted up the hem of her short skirt halter top dress, revealing she went commando. She opened her legs apart and made one last look down to ensure she properly over the pot hole. It was so dark she couldn't be completely sure but time was running out. She counted in her mind 1..2..3 and let go. A jet of her urine the appearance of a fire hose jet emitted itself from her nether region. Several smaller streams deviated from the main jet into the pot hole as well as rivulets emerged down the middle dripping profusely. Some of the rivulets went down to her buttocks nearby her genital region and dripping off the skin of her buttocks. Gwenndolinne almost fell backwards from the sweet ecstasy of relief. Her bladder deflated as well as her urethra feeling the pressure of the flow of her urine rapidly moving by. Her urine sizzled as steam emerged from the pot hole. It was hot and the sight according to the others was hot too. They couldn't believe someone did this in front of them. Suddenly, a voice could be heard calling out "Fuuuuuzzzzzzzz!". Everyone scrambled out of there to avoid the police, leaving Gwenndolinne by herself still urinating. A police patrol slowly drove by the alley. During the driveby, the driver looked in the direction of the alley. Gwenndolinne stood there frozen and crouched next to the trash pail still urinating. Her stream did start to trickle but she remained still. One officer asked if his partner saw anyone. The driver couldn't see anything and continued driving. Her stream slowly tricked to a stop and once she pushed out the last few drops, she proceeded to get back on her feet. She carefully left the alley and inspected the coast. Majority of the street was empty as people carefully left quickly. Gwenndolinne left as well and made her way home asap. She didn't bother to wipe the dried up urine off her bottom and the few rivulets that traveled down the inside seams of her thighs. Gwenndolinne proceeded to plop on her bed and worry about it the next morning. And the laundry too. FYI: Gwenndolinne is 25 years old.
  13. Even tho i`m not approved yet i couldn`t wait to make an interactive, heh- Hope u guys will enjoy! I put alot of effort into fiction, especially since english is not my first language. ~-~ Riley have finally arrived - a lonely, yet good looking cabin in the woods have been waiting for her half a day. The girl giggled in excitement, pulling the rusty keys from under the filthy rug. The house seemed pretty good, yet the rent was really cheap. Not like she hates it, she is rather happy to have such a nice place for such a small price, it`s just.. Suspicious. Why would the owner of the place get rid of it rapidly like that? However, getting out of thoughts, Riley slowly opened the door and walked into the living room - and it also looked better than she expected. Well, at least, it didn`t look abandoned - the owner probably cleaned up all the mess day before the girl arrived. How sweet of them. She threw her bag at the couch and sat next to it, not even bothering to lock the door - she`s way to exhausted to even look around, and would rather have some rest instead. The girl relaxed and closed her eyes - finally, a monthly vacation away from civilization she has been dreaming about for so long. Riley imagined all the things she can do here - explore the nature, draw landscapes, probably even do a photoshoot.. Did she bring her camera? Nevermind, theres plenty of other things she can do. Thinking of everything, Riley didn`t even notice as she fell asleep peacefully, cuddling her bag with one hand. Riley woke up to a palpable urge to pee and quickly left the couch, looking around in search for the bathroom, but it didn`t look like it could be in here - a living room and a kitchen were attached to each other, so there is probably no room for the toilet. She hurried to the second floor and checked the first room she saw - a bedroom. The bed sure looks comfy and is probably much softer than the couch, but there is no time for a nap, she would probably wake up soon.. And wet. She walked to the other door - the guest room. Damn, they really have a guest room in a cabin in the woods? It`s not like anyone would go that far for a cup of tea or anything. She opened the third door - finally, a bathroom! She rushed to the toilet and raised the lid, but as soon as she did - a strong jet of water squirted out right in front of her, splashing like a tiny fountain. Riley stood there shocked for a few seconds, before closing the lid again. She could call the owner of the house and complain right now, but it wouldn`t really make much sense - she should`ve expect something like that from a price like this. She also could leave and dismiss the rent, but she really didn`t want to do that - she just moved in and she couldn`t afford any other place.. She sighed, leaving the bathroom - a month without a toilet is not that big of a deal, right? Well, her bladder doesn`t think so. She felt the urge to pee again, and pressed her thighs together, looking around the hall. ~-~ Riley has to think of something - she can`t live without peeing for a month! Or can she? ~-~ A) Pee outside. Disgusting! She would never do that by her own will - she is not an animal. But, i mean, where else are you supposed to go in that situation? B) Pee in the shower. Yuck, Riley will never step in there again. C) Look around the house - there might be something else she could use... D) Hold it til the solution comes by itself. It`s supposed to happen someday, right?
  14. Hey all! I wasn’t expecting my first post to blow up like that, so I figured I’m due for another story! This is my latest accident. I was at my boyfriend’s, and I was laying in bed and he was sitting in the chair. My bf and I were just chatting away about something, and he made me laugh. I have a little bit of giggle incontinence, so sometimes if I laugh too hard, I pee a little. This was one of those times, and I left a wet patch the size of a baseball on the bed. Totally unexpected, and I immediately became embarrassed, but luckily my bf didn’t notice. He got up to go get something to drink, and when I looked at the damage, despite it being relatively small, I knew I had to tell him. So I threw the blanket over it and decided to go use the bathroom. My pajama pants didn’t show, but I was wet halfway down my thighs. When we both came back, he started talking again, but this time I wasn’t paying attention, trying to formulate how I was going to tell my bf that I, at 22 years old, had a small accident on the bed. I thought the best thing to do was text him on discord, because I could not bring myself to physically say, “Hey, _____, I had a bit of an accident on the bed”. Even in the discord message, I was unclear. I said something along the lines of “Hey, I didn’t want to tell you this, but earlier while we were laughing I might’ve laughed a little too hard and something got on the bed.” He hears his discord notification go off and checks it, and turns to me. “Baby, what do you mean? Some got on the bed? What exactly got on the bed?” “U-um..” “Blood?” “No…” ”Water?” ”No, not that.” ”Poop?” He asked jokingly, a smile forming on his face. ”Ew, no!” I laughed this time. (Apologies if you enjoy messing, it’s not my cup of tea) ”Baby, what is it?” I realize I have to tell him, and can feel my face burning hot. “L-look, I was laughing really hard and might have.. peed..” He gave me a bit of a sympathetic look. “How bad is it?” ”N-not a lot..” ”Let me see.” He starts to get up, and I am shaking now, but I roll over and shut my eyes so he can see the damage. He gently grabs my shoulder and pulls me into a hug. “Oh, baby, don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay, really.” I immediately felt validated, and accepted his hug, closing my eyes and letting him hold me as I calmed down. He climbed over and laid next to me on the bed, and the next words that came out of his mouth had me absolutely floored. ”So, you just laughed too hard and peed a little?” ”Yeah, I do that sometimes. I’m really sorry.” ”Don’t be. I think it’s hot, actually. I don’t have a piss fetish, but the fact that you were laughing so hard you couldn’t control yourself turns me on. You’re so adorable.” He gave me a kiss on the forehead. From then on, I have considered telling him that the love of his life actually does have a piss fetish. I feel like he won’t judge me, but at the same time, I’m utterly terrified. I am almost 5 years deep into this relationship, and my bf has no clue. Sorry there’s not much wetting guys, but I absolutely had to tell this story. Feel like you guys would like it :)) Also, if you have a partner, can you comment how you told them about your fetish? Thanks guys, and have a great day!!
  15. Dont no artist comment who it is if u know
  16. Version 1.0.0

    893 downloads

    Download the Japanese original for free from Watakarashi on BOOTH ------------------------- Fast-paced sidescrolling action! In this game, you take the role of Alice, who has been attacked by a mysterious bladder-filling monster in the forest! Maneuver through obstacles and collect speed boosts to ensure Alice makes it home dry! Play time: about 15-20 minutes for all three endings The game currently has three endings, although there are two more fully drawn and programmed endings in the game. However, I do not know how to unlock them. I suspect that you might need to clear the game without getting hit, although I have not attempted that yet. If anyone unlocks endings 4 and 5, please let me know how! This game is machine translated and manually localized. KNOWN BUG: Clicking on the "Password" button brings up the password enter screen, but it cannot be exited. Press F5 to relaunch the game instead. ------------------------- Guide for inputting passwords: The game has three passwords that are given to you upon completion of the game. They are in japanese and cannot be inputted on the keyboard, so here are tips for entering them in.
    Free
  17. Addison, a beautiful brunette with long and curly hair, was having a normal work day. She got up, took care of her morning routine, then she got dressed, putting on her black work t-shirt and her new, form-fitting, khaki, semi-formal pants. Before leaving for her double, she made sure to fill her 32 oz water bottle all the way. Her first shift went by fine, it was really slow and the tables she was serving were low maintenance and nice enough. By the time she got back to work from break, she had refilled her water bottle 2 times. She was fine for the first 30 minutes of her shift, it was really busy and she didn’t even think about the slight discomfort growing in her bladder. Eventually, Addison’s need to pee became impossible to ignore, unfortunately, it was too busy for her to get the opportunity to go. it was like every time she got caught up on orders and all her tables were good, another table was seated in her section. She would’ve told the hostess that she needed her to slow down on seating her but when she went up,, the hostess was doing a pee dance behind the podium as customers kept on coming in, so Addison said nothing. As time went by, Addison was doing everything she could to not look desperate in front of her customers, however every drink she filled made her bladder hurt. Finally the rush died down and she was able to breathe. She went up to the hostess, Millie, to tell her she was going to the restroom, but before she could say anything millie, who had her legs crossed and both hands holding her crotch through her khaki shorts blurted “watch this, I’m about to pee myself” and ran to the restroom, which was in clear view of the host stand. Addison stood up front, She had her legs crossed, and since no one could see, she had one hand between her legs to help her hold it. She looked over longingly in the direction of the restroom, hoping to see Millie coming back, but instead she saw Millie standing in front of the door to the ladies room waiting. Millie was crossing and uncrossing her legs, shifting her weight from foot too foot, and bobbing up and down, while holding herself. Addison, seeing her desperation, felt her own increase. She tried to distract herself, she began fiddling with a pen for a bit but then a wave of desperation hit and she bent double, legs crossed, and grabbed her crotch. The wave subsided and she stood up straight again, her bladder had a noticeable bulge. She looked towards the restrooms again just in time to see Millie freeze, put a hand over her mouth, and dart out the door. There were a few drops of liquid on the floor where Millie’d been standing and Addison realized Millie had at least leaked if not completely lost it. However, 5 minuets later, Millie walked back and said “Phew, I almost peed all over myself, whoever is in there is taking so long that I had to run out to the dumpster area and relieve myself there. Addison noticed the smallest patch of damp material on Millies crotch and the faint smell of pee caused another wave of desperation. “Well, I gotta go!” And hurried. Being rather bladder-shy, Addison wasn’t eager to go pee outside so she tried the restroom door just in case and found it locked, so she nocked and a voice from inside said “Occupied, sorry I’m a bit sick rn” -fuck- she thought. “Ok ma’m, but if you could hurry, I really need to use it” Addison said. There was no answer. Addison waited about 7 more minutes when another wave hit, by this point she was doing a similar pee dance to Millie and despite grabbing herself with both hands and crossing her legs as tight as possible while bent at the waist, she felt two spurts of pee escape and a small patch of her khakis dampen slightly. Just as Addison was about to run outside, the restroom door opened and the manager walked out but before anything could be said, Addison dashed in, locking the door behind her. She ran to the toilet, fumbled with her belt for a few painful seconds, her legs shaking, her bladder quivering. After finally getting her belt undone, she started undoing her button but had to stop to press a hand to her throbbing urethra. She went to unzip her pants, but suddenly, the zipper was stuck. “Oh noooo, not now” she whimpered to herself. Addison tugged again at the zipper, to no avail. She was standing, butt hovering over the toilet, ready to sit as soon as her clothes were out the way, but the zipper was not budging. Another wave hit and she moaned and crossed her legs, bent double, pants now tightly digging into her bladder. She leaked again, and the dark patch at her crotch spread, she regained control and decided to try pushing the pants down anyway but her curvy figure prevented that. then, back to back waves as all the water she drank started to spurt to of her throbbing urethra, she kept tying to stop it but to no avail, the leaks kept happening and eventually, she completely lost control. the wet patch spread across her backside and down her legs in thin lines that thickened. it was so much pee that it burst through her pants, gushing through her clothes and onto the floor. She felt a combination of ecstatic relief and embarrassment as her bladder continued to empty. finally, she gave up trying to stop it and sat on the toilet, fully clothed, and let the pee just gush out of her. The stream was so powerful that it shot out go her and splattered all over the restroom floor. after the flow finally stopped, she messaged her manager and said she had started her period and then ran out the building so nobody could see what had happened. Addison spread a towel on the seat of her car and sat down, looking at her now-soaked pants. She tried her zipper again and this time, of course, it went down. She slid her pants down and touched the soaked crotch of her blue panties. She felt a shudder of pleasure run up and down her spine as she began to rub her clitoris through her panties. Then, she pulled them to the side and began rubbing it directly, biting her lip as she rubbed herself to the point of orgasm.
  18. Mr. H

    An Emblan Accident

    From the album: Mr. H's Images

    It's been a little while since my last post, so here's a drawing of the Bat from Fire Emblem Heroes wetting herself.
  19. ~Acquired Taste~ Here is my new story, it will be a stand-alone ‘limited series.’ I wanted to try something new that did not link together with my other stories. This one focuses more on desperation, although there will be wetting too (just not as much as my other stories). This first chapter is pretty long, but the next few will be shorter. Chapter 1 - Drove to the Brink Kyra's delicate fingers carefully and deliberately twisted the dial on her locker. She opened the door and selected the appropriate books for her first period. Unlike other more lax high school seniors, her locker served as the epitome of tidiness. Color-coated folders and notebooks lined the shelves, facilitating her finding of the required materials. Before shutting the door, Kyra checked her reflection in the small mirror hanging on the inside door. Deep brown eyes, olive skin, and straightened brown strands of hair stared back at her. She didn't think much of her looks, but her father's Filipino half gave her a unique beauty amongst the relatively non-diverse private high school. She adjusted the silver pendant necklace around her neck - a gift from her parents for her 18th birthday. The jewelry was cute and dainty, exuding the same aura as Kyra herself. Her conservative upbringing appreciated this - Kyra had no problem exhibiting her graceful femininity. Kyra then shut her locker and headed towards the bathroom. She didn’t actually have to pee that bad, but a tiny, overactive bladder had taught her to take any chance she could get. Any stray leaks would stand out on her khaki uniform shorts. She tugged on the hems as she walked down the hall - technically, the rules required girl’s shorts to be at or below the fingertips, but due to Kyra's height and proportions, they stretched just a few inches below mid thigh. No teacher would mind though - she was one of the more well-behaved students. Kyra didn’t mind either; although more modest than her average classmate, she did feel a slight rush at revealing a bit of leg in a place where doing so was not technically permitted. She did make sure to tuck in her navy blue collared uniform shirt, however - a rule much more strictly enforced. After relieving herself and exiting the bathroom, Kyra refilled her water bottle at the drinking fountain. She then traversed down the hall towards her homeroom just in time for the first bell. She walked into the room of uniformly-dressed piers and sat at her assigned seat in the left-middle row. “A little later than usual,” a voice to her right softly stated. Kyra turned and met the hazel eyes of her friend Vanessa. “Yeah, I had to turn around before I left my neighborhood - almost forgot my paperwork for the DMV.” Vanessa’s finger flicked a strand of her light-brown hair behind her ear. “Oh yeah, I forgot you had to renew your license today. I just did mine last week,” noted the dirty-blonde classmate, her birthday mere days before Kyra’s. “It’s super boring, but at least I was in and out pretty quickly.” The two friends chatted a bit longer until the second bell, signaling the time for their teachers to take attendance. They then parted ways to their first class. The day progressed fairly normal for Kyra, no tests or exams disrupted her usual schedule. Nor did the pinching twinge in her bladder - her typical school day often consisted of a consistent need to pee. Kyra’s small bladder almost never felt empty, especially when the health-conscious student ensured proper hydration by constantly sipping on her water bottle throughout the day. This usually did not matter, as Kira knew she could hold it until lunch, her first opportunity for a bathroom break. However, this did mean a rather uncomfortable fourth period class. Like most days, Kyra subtly squirmed in her seat, repositioning her legs often. Throughout the often-dry classroom lectures, her strained muscles never ceased to remind her of their urgency. Kyra didn’t mind, however. Her bladder became a sort of friend to her. She knew she would be able to address this need shortly, so there was no need to worry. Soon her body’s begging ringing in her head was replaced by the ringing of the classroom bell. Finally, lunch time. Kyra walked as fast as the strict school rules would allow down the hall and to the nearest bathroom. She had to be sure she made it first - if her particular timing strayed off its schedule, she risked punishment from her body in the form of a leak. Somedays, Kyra would lose the race and have to wait for one of the stalls to open, resulting in a couple warm leaks - never enough to show on her shorts, however. Today, Kyra was punctual. She slipped into the empty stall with enough time to spare to cover the seat with a layer of toilet paper before sitting down. A light trickle preceded a ferocious hissing and prominent splatter into the waters of the bowl. Kira exhaled a victory sigh. Another small battle won - one more to go as the day ended. Lunch only marked the halfway point; Kyra still had another half day to hold before her next bathroom break. After washing her hands, Kyra topped off her water bottle and headed towards the cafeteria. She ate a modest-sized meal, spending most of the lunch period talking with Vanessa and the other members of her small but close-knit group of friends. Kyra didn’t notice herself drinking more water than usual as she chatted and laughed with the other girls. The following class period, as most students slumped in their seats from post-meal drowsiness, Kyra forced her eyelids to remain open. A small tickle in her bladder - although tiny - could escape if she lost consciousness for even a second. Kyra already faced the curse of using the bathroom at least three times before bed. The tiny pinch escalated into an annoying poke as the next two periods progressed. Kyra’s sneaky holds and leg-jitters were not foreign in her Spanish class, however. The pinches and twinges of her bladder blended into the background of her common reality, as the realization that she could relieve herself after one more class period eased her mind. No need to panic. Soon the bell ring signaled the completion of this current obstacle with only one more hurdle remaining. Kyra rushed to her final class of the day, sitting in her assigned seat in the back rock. She sat tensely at her desk with her front teeth resting above her lip. Still no worries. She jotted down notes and paid close attention to the teacher’s presentation, shoving any thoughts of desperation to the back of her mind. Kyra smiled at the ring of the final bell. Another day, another successful hold. However, the teacher shouted out one last announcement: “Will the following students stay after class? I have a few questions and clarifications on your exams from last week. Mason, Keegan, Peter, and Kyra." Kyra’s blood cooled at the call of her name. Her skin warmed. ‘It’s okay,’ she told herself. She could hold on a bit longer. Kyra repeated this interalmonlogue over and over, even as the first classmate struggled to answer the teacher’s questions: “I’m having trouble reading your handwriting here. Can you tell me what this says?” “Uhhh… Ummm…… Let me see… Huh, umm…..” Kyra’s feet tap-danced on the floor. Although normally softspoken, she wanted to scream. ‘Hurry up you idiot!’ Though her thoughts quickly apologized to her own internal outburst ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it, I just have to pee really bad!’ However, Kyra’s mental anguish grew less and less apologetic after her eyes darted towards the clock - ten minutes had already passed. 3:10 pm. The DMV closed at 4:00. If she was going to make it on time before they closed, she needed to hurry. The dual forces of her dire bodily need and stress of reaching her errand on time tugged on her from either direction. 3:15. Another pressurized pulse from her bladder nearly caused Kyra to explode from anxiety. Finally, after twenty grueling minutes, the teacher was able to piece together the slow classmate’s chicken scratch with the minimal help she received. The next two students sorted their problems out relatively quickly, but each second still sent another shockwave through Kyra’s abdomen. Her wobbling knees approached the teacher. The teacher laid Kyra’s test on her desk and pointed her red pen towards one of the questions. “Looks like you accidentally circled two answers for question 11. Normally I would count this wrong, but given your excellent performance and good behavior in this class, I thought I’d let this slide. Could you tell me which answer you meant to circle?” Kyra appreciated her teacher’s generosity, but her bladder did not appreciate the excessive stalling. She couldn’t read the test question standing straight up, so she had to bend over slightly. Kyra winced at the intense pressure crushing down below from the slight movement. It felt as though a steam roller was compressing her bladder as she bent over. Her mind could hardly focus on reading the questions. “I-I meant to circle answer B,” Kyra stated through her clenched jaw. “Good choice,” smiled the teacher. “That’s all. Enjoy the rest of your day!” Kyra attempted a friendly grin over her grimace before turning towards the door. Another fist of anxiety gut-punched her when she glanced at the clock before walking out the door - 3:35 pm. She knew the DMV was over twenty minutes away. She sprinted towards her locker, hoping the ‘no running in the halls’ rule wouldn’t apply now that the school day had technically ended. Her fingers frantically twisted her locker dial, but she missed the correct number twice and had to start over. After the third attempt, Kyra turned the knob to the last number, but the door wouldn’t open. She wanted to scream. Her blood pressure sky-rocketed. With a deep breath, Kyra composed herself and tried one more time. This time, she slowly and steadily rotated the knob, ensuring she reached each number correctly as she recited the combination in her head. Sure enough, the door opened. Kyra grabbed her keys and whatever books she needed for her homework and threw them into her bookbag. By the time her locker door slammed shut, she was already halfway down the hall. Each stride felt like a kick to her abdomen. Kyra didn’t have time to waste though. With super-human restraint, she darted right past the bathroom door - there was no time. As long as she could get to the DMV before it closed, she could just use their bathroom. Kyra plowed out the school’s front doors and ran straight to her car. Her private school did not have buses, a plus for moments like this. Another blessing was the fact that the after-school rush of parking lot traffic had already cleared up. In one miraculous motion, she clipped on her seat belt, started her car, and shifted it to drive before flooring it out of the parking lot. Sitting down in her driver side seat provided a smidgen of relief. She felt as though her hold was more manageable sitting as opposed to standing. Still, Kyra’s legs chaotically bounced up and down as she waited at the stop sign. Car after car passed with little gap, denying Kyra access. But she had to pee, and she was running late. She couldn’t wait for a safe distance; she had to act now. Kyra cut the wheel and slammed on the gas, forcing her car right within a manageable gap between cars. The car behind her honked at the apparent cut-off. “Sorry!” waved Kyra, although she in no way regretted her action. She was racing against both the clock and her bladder. Kyra knew moments like these would often taunt her. Fate would surely show its cruel sense of humor by forcing every single traffic light to shine red, or to spawn in some unexpected traffic jam. Not today, however. Karma had apparently awarded Kyra in advance, granting a relatively clear road. The desperate driver zipped down the two-line highway unimpeded. The pressure below had transformed into a dull numbness as her muscles grew more and more fatigued. Kyra felt as though her body had entered into a new phase of desperation, an unknown threshold not yet traveled. She began to drive with one hand on the wheel, the other fiercely gripping her womanhood. Pain and anxiety clouded her mind, but she tried to focus her thoughts through the funnel onto one goal: reaching her destination on time. She could do this. Kyra no longer felt human. She entered a sensation of weightlessness, as if her soul had astrally projected while her body continued the motions of driving all on its own. The new spiritual plane was one of pure agony and anxiety spawned from the stress of running late and the excruciating pain of a bladder about to burst. Finally, her mindless body pulled into the parking lot with five minutes left to spare. Kyra re-entered reality with a wave of relief upon finally reaching her destination. Unbuckling her seatbelt was like removing a sandbag from her stomach. Her thighs immediately clamped together to ensure this relief did not cause her muscles to stop doing their job. Both hands vicegriped her crotch as Kyra re-composed herself. She then carefully opened her car door with her foot, unable to lean over without suffering another stab in her gut. Staring at the outside pavement, Kyra took a deep breath. ‘I can do this.’ She tensed every muscle in her body as she bent just enough to exit her car. She wanted to implode - each minor movement mirrored the sensation of a merciless massage on her exhausted bladder. Kyra limped through her aching haze to the front door. The cool, aluminum handle opened with a jingle. She immediately grabbed a ticket from the dial before scanning the room. The tiled floor contained more scuffs than blank space, the torn carpet did little to welcome her, the pain-chipped walls enclosed her, and the flickering fluorescent box lights completed the depressing, underfunded interior. Kyra’s eyes did not land upon any restroom doors, however. Panicking, she looked around the dilapidated space once more, before a deadweight of dread smashed her hopes. A sign behind the desk in somber font displayed the macabre message: ‘Public Restrooms not available. Sorry for the inconvenience.’ The sign felt like a slap in the face, a dry-humored taunt from the forces that be. Kyra stared at the soulless symbols in pure disbelief. Instead of festering in her squalor, Kyra shifted her game plan to a new mission: get out of this place as soon as possible. She glanced at the spaces fellow occupants: 3 people in line, 5 others seated in the decaying waiting room chairs. A digital display on the wall read: now serving number 474. Kyra checked her ticket: 482. The number was close enough - she could wait a few more minutes. She did not want to have to come back to this place again. Kyra chose one of the chairs, praying its feeble frame wouldn’t collapse when she sat. Once she realized how slowly time moved within these walls, she began to rethink her decision. The only remaining attendant suddenly stopped helping her current customer and started to sluggishly trudge from her desk towards the door. Kyra tried to restrain her judgment as the overweight middle-aged lady waddled her way across the room at a turtle’s pace. ‘She’s a nice lady. She’s a nice lady. She’s a nice lady. She’s a nice lady.’ Kyra repeated in her head. However, the niceties stopped when Kyra winced and felt herself enter the next phase of desperation. Her numbness vanished, replaced with a rapid-fire spray of knives and needle aimed directly at her abdomen. Kyra knew she had to ride this wave out - if she got up now, her bladder would surely give up and explode all over the DMV floor. A jingle provided a momentary distraction. The door shook slightly as the attendant flipped over the ‘Closed sign.’ She then turned around and resumed her slow-motion journey back to the front desk. Along the way, a tired voice scratched, “If you have a ticket, I can help you. If not, please come back tomorrow. Also, 475, please approach the window.” One person got up and left, visibly frustrated, having not grabbed a ticket when entering. Kyra did not want to celebrate another person’s misfortune, but this meant one less body to wait behind. Another aching jolt jarred her bladder, however, ending her short-lived moment of joy. Her chair squeaked as she jostled in her seat, trying anything to subdue the fiery sensations burning her bladder alive. “476,” coraked the attendant. Kyra’s eyes watered, tears sitting just behind her eyelid. All hope drained from her body. A warm trickle snuck its way through Kyra’s weakening barrier. Kyra pressed down between her legs with all her strength. She noticed a slight dampness on her fingers, but she kept pushing. She knew her body had been forced beyond its limits. However, she did not give up. She tightened with all her might, until the sharp pains once again dissipated into a bulging numbness. The attendant’s voice again rattled, “476.” Kyra had crossed into yet another threshold, another plane of existence well past the bounds of her previously defined lines. She took this moment to examine her crotch. Carefully retreating her fingers, she wiped her damp fingertips on her dry shorts leg. She could make out a small darker patch on the fabric, no bigger than a slice of pepperoni. Kyra’s eyes widened upon seeing the evidence of her leak, but it was not purely out of horror. She was a bit surprised she made it this far - her tiny bladder usually leaked earlier than this. However, she had never held this long, nearly to an accident. “477.” Kyra glanced around the room - two more people had been helped and since left. Four other people remained. She reevaluated her current state. The stabbing had vanished, replaced with the odd sensation of being uncomfortably full, similar to a post-Thanksgiving dinner, only if the fullness was concentrated in her bladder rather than her stomach. She could feel her bladder pressing against her other organs. However, for the most part, she no longer felt as though she could lose it any second. The current wave of numbness granted her just enough will to stay and finish her errand. Still, she had to constantly focus on keeping her surplus of urine held in. “478.” Kyra clamped both knees and thighs together and gripped the edges of the chair. Her fingernails dug into the frayed felt, picking at the material as she shut her eyes and tried to distract her mind. “479.” Even breathing became difficult, as with each breath, her expanding lungs sandwiched her other organs and caused them to press against her bladder. Her body was simply running out of room - or at least, it felt that way. This phase of Kyra’s desperation still proved tasking on her body. She would give anything for relief at this point, even contemplating the sensation of just letting it go right here. But then the realistic thoughts of her sodden shorts, drenched chair, expanding puddle on the floor, and public humiliation all reminded her of why this simply wasn’t an option. “480.” Crinkling paper and pen scribbling gnawed at Kyra’s eardrums. These noises became the only outward sensation that Kyra was aware of for the next few minutes, besides the lava-lamp movement of burning and boiling in the entire lower-half of her body. “481,” croaked the attendant. ‘One more.’ Kyra repeated that thought over and over. The two words became the final bit of motivation she needed to hang on. However, her bladder’s exhaustion from its marathon began to strike. The dreadful pains below re-materilaized beneath Kyra’s skin. Her rock-solid bladder bulged out, hyper-aware of even the slightest pressures. Her belt and waistband, despite loosened, strangled her abdomen. Even her shirt resting atop her gut resembled the weight of a person sitting on her lap.The excruciating aches returned full-force, as though a full-grown adult baby was attempting to claw itself free from her belly. Kyra knew she had only minutes to spare. She thought about just cutting her losses and leaving now - surely she could last the 5 minute drive home. “482.” Her number. Kyra looked up at the now-empty line. Just 10 feet of floor space stretched between her and the front desk. Kyra slowly and painstakingly unraveled herself off the chair. It made her car exit seem like nothing. This time, Kyra thought her brain would explode from the amount of willpower it took to hang out as she bent her body forwards and stood up from the chair. She started seeing spots from the exertion. She sluggishly stepped forward. Each footstep lodged the knife in her bladder deeper, the ten feet seeming like ten miles. “How may I help you?” croaked the attendant. “L-license renewal,” whimpered Kyra, only able to utter a squeak. “I’m sorry, can you say that louder?” Kyra swallowed a gulp of air and repeated, “L-l-license r-renewal..” A soft moan preceded the last syllable. “Alright, I’ll need your current license. I’ll also need you to fill out this form and tell me the names of these signs.” Kyra fumbled through her wallet, her fingers shaking. She finally produced her license and slid it under the window. She then grabbed the desk-mounted visor and looked through the lens at a row of 5 street signs. “Alright ma’am, recite what you see starting from the left.” Kyra took a deep breath. “Stop.” Her muscles strained. “Yield.” Her knees buckled. “Rail Road Crossing.” Her toes curled. “Merge.” Her forehead sweated. “Deer crossing.” She leaked. “Good job. Let me just grab the proper paperwork..” Kyra panicked. A warm trickle inched its way into her panties. Her hand rocketed to her crotch, her ankles twisted, and she hunched over. Another shot of warmth. Kyra could no longer stand by herself. She nearly fell forward, needing to use both hands to support herself against the top of the service desk. She now stood with her feet slightly apart, her legs wobbling ferociously. The biting pain started to slowly but surely claim victory as her exhausted bladder gradually gave out. Another jet spurted into her pants. This time, the patch between her legs expanded. Tears formed in Kyra’s eyes. She knew what was coming, but she continued to fight. Even as another stream burst through the seams and slowly filled her shorts with warm urine, Kyra gritted her teeth and tensed every molecule in her body. Tears streaked down her cheeks. Eventually, her muscles could no longer hold back the flood. Defeated, all they could do was relax. “No…” sobbed Kyra. But it was over. The trickling stream amplified into a raging river. A hot spring geysered into her shorts, causing the dark wet patch to explode in every direction. Kyra’s body convulsed with each successive gush of urine. An array of emotions mixed within her mind - disbelief, disgust, relief, shame, and even a touch of pleasure, which Kyra assumed was simply due to the absence of pain. The cascade splattered against the tiled floor as if someone had just spilled an entire gallon of water. Kyra bent her head down in shame. A tear dripped into her expanding puddle. As her stream continued, it no longer even felt as though she were peeing - only the sensation of relaxed muscles remained. But the growing puddle only confirmed Kyra’s horror that she was in fact still going. After what seemed like an eternity of release, Kyra was finally drained - of energy, of feeling, of pee - everything. The attendant finally heard Kyra’s sobs. “Ma’am, are you okay – oh. Oh my. Oh sweetie, It’s alright. Here, I got your paperwork. Just sign here and don’t worry about the rest, I’ll fill it out with your info. Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll alert the cleaning crew.” Kyra kept sniffling. Through the sobs, she muttered, “I’m sorry..” The attendant’s raspy but endearing voice answered, “Oh hun, don’t you worry. I’ve seen much worse on this job, believe me. Here, take this for your car.” She handed Kyra an entire roll of paper towels. She accepted the gift, and with another sniffle, whimpered, “Thank you…” Kyra wanted nothing more but to disappear. She signed the paper with vibrating fingers and left the building, her tennis shoes squeaking against the floor from her pee puddle. She left wet footprints on the concrete on the way to her car. Unraveling nearly half the roll, she completely covered her seat. She then sat her soggy bottom onto the seat and drove home. Despite tears continuingly to pour against her face, Kyra couldn’t help but relish in the weightlessness of her pee-free body. Lingering waves of relief emanated from her bladder. Still, Kyra couldn’t believe what she had just done. A grown adult peeing her pants in a public place? The thought of anyone finding out devastated her. She would need to be more careful next time.
  20. SPOILER ALERT THIS POST CONTAINS MINOR PLOT SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 2 OF EXTRAORDINARY ATTORNEY WOO . . . . Found a messing scene in episode 2 of new Netflix Kdrama "Extraordinary Attorney Woo". Two lawyers are on their way to a hotel to pose as an engaged couple for an investigation. The female attorney starts getting stomachaches in the car. She rushes to the bathroom once they are at the hotel. She makes it into a stall, but poops her pants before she can pull her pants down. She has to call another female attorney (the title character) to bring her new pants. After she changes, she suddenly gets another stomachache and has to go back in the stall. Pooping noises are censored and replaced with a cartoonish plopping sound for the accident and fireworks for the second poop, but it's pretty clear what she is doing lol I highly recommend watching this drama. Here's a link if you don't have netflix: https://www.dramacool9.co/extraordinary-attorney-woo-2022/ I also ripped the episode and trimmed it if you really don't wanna watch (You should) Attorney Woo Episode 2.mp4
  21. I feel like it's really hard for me to find the kinds of stories I like. Sometimes I'll find one that sounds really sexy but then I open it up and it's barely a paragraph! I really love the longer stories that are really detailed, that are about bathrooms maybe closed at work or school or something.Or when a girl becomes desperate out on some sort of adventure or something but can't seem to go for whatever the reason.. honestly the best stories I have ever read, (and to get an idea of the kinds of stories I'm talking about) are written by Desperatejill!! Her stories are EXACTLY the kinds of things I'm looking for! I often go through pages and pages of topics here but can't seem to find alot.A good chuck of the great ones on here I have read already.. sometimes read them again because they're the best! But I'm looking for stories like that if anyone knows exactly where I can find a bunch of good stories exactly like that!? And if you've never read desperatejills stories, then OMG get to her page RIGHT NOW and read them because they are incredible and suuuper sexy!! And exactly the kind of stuff I'm looking for!Can any one help with this?! Maybe even write a new one or tell me exactly what topics here and what pages the great ones might be on, if anyone knows!? I wish this place was FULL of the kinds of stories I absolutely LOVE and am looking for! To me those kinds are the sexiest stories and scenarios of all time lol! Being a HUGE omorashi fan and the fact the when a woman needs to pee is the sexiest thing in the universe, I still have a specific type I love! As I'm sure everyone does (or alot of us at least) I have been into omorashi since I was a kid wayy before I even knew what omorashi was or that I had a pee fetish! I used to think I was alone in that so for most of my life I hid that from everyone.. even after I learned what it was it took me many many years to finally be comfortable with admitting it! But now I love talking about it! Though I guess I've still never actually told anyone out loud lmao. I really wished I could have talked about it more and played some games with the first woman I ever told! The one who actually made me comfortable talking about it and all! Even though that ended up badly for different reasons she still made that possible so there's a silver lining! Anyway if anyone could help out with stories and videos especially if love that!
  22. I'd like to share some stories that I've been through. And I have to say as a freshman whose mother tongue is not English I'm really not good at English, so I will try my best to reduce mistakes in grammar. Also, it may be because of the cultural differences between countries. Some of the details I have told you will be very unexpected and incomprehensible. Please don't pay too much attention to the views and descriptions, just enjoy it as a fictional story. But the whole story is based on reality to a certain extent. I will update as the case may be. I hope that you will enjoy it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- After three years of hard work, I entered a famous university in our country with good results. And study game design there. The reason why I mentioned our school is that it has some particularity. Because our school is famous for the majors that are suitable for girls under our stereotype, such as art, communication media, performance, hosting, drama, etc. Because our school is famous for the majors that are suitable for girls under our stereotype, such as art, communication media, performance, hosting, drama, etc. So the ratio of boys to girls reached 7:3. There are only a few math, science and engineering majors in our school that are considered suitable for boys. Our school is also famous for its comprehensive service to students. For example, long ago, a girl reported that there were more girls in the school, but the ratio of male and female toilets was 1:1. Soon the school noticed this message and transformed the school toilet: some boys' toilets were transformed into girls' toilets. The original layout of the teaching building is that there are two toilets on the East and west sides, one male and one female. After reconstruction, one of the West or east side is two girls' toilets, and the other side is a men's toilet and a women's toilet. The proportion of toilets for men and women is nearly 1:3. Comparing the ratio of men to women of 3:7, it can be found that the per capita proportion of boys is relatively lower than that of girls. Of course, the actual situation is much more complicated than the "digital game" I share now. As a girl, I don't care or deliberately think that I don't have enough "toilet rights", but when I urgently need to solve my personal physiological needs, I once found the benefits of being a girl. It was a Saturday morning. My boyfriend (one of my friends who is a boy) and I agreed to study together in the classroom of the teaching building. But he didn't come to the appointment after I had studied for two hours. It was not until I sent him a message to wake him up that he arrived panting in 10 minutes. His wheezing and the sound of placing objects broke the silence of the study room. He blushed embarrassedly, trying to reduce the noise caused by his sudden intrusion, and whispered his excuse to me. Although he said that he had forgotten which classroom we agreed to be in and was late, I still clearly saw his dark circles under his eyes and his messy hair and clothes - he should have stayed up late last night and just woke up when I called him. Then he put on his clothes with his belongings and rushed here from the boys' apartment. “I'm really sorry.” “It's OK, after all, your apartment is still far from here. It is always a difficult problem for college students to get up early on weekends.” Really, the boys' apartment is far away from the school. There is a road and a subway between the two. There are not many people in the whole classroom, and there are fewer boys. To be exact, there are only oneortwo. There are not many people in the whole classroom, and there are fewer boys. To be exact, there are only oneortwo. Maybe our stereotype that "girls are more down-to-earth and diligent than boys" is right. Maybe it's just that this classroom is an “accident”. The tea cup on the table was steaming, and the whole classroom only had the sound of ballpoint pens sliding, books turning pages and tapping the computer keyboard. Soon, the boy sitting next to me had a new problem. He crossed his legs as if shaking them anxiously. He kept looking out of the door absently. I don't care about his behavior, but he really bothers me. "If you don't mind, please don't shake your legs." Although he will stop temporarily, it seems that he still has a big problem to be solved. With the empty coffee bottle, I can imagine what he has experienced since last night: in order to celebrate the weekend, he and his roommates spent almost a night with beer and games. Play hero league together, then drink a few cans of beer and go to sleep at some time in the morning. At more than 10 o'clock, he was awakened by the annoying sound of his mobile phone. When he saw my message, he realized, "Oh, shit. I screwed up." Only then did he realize how irresponsible his behavior was last night, as he was preparing to go out with a girl. Ignoring going to the bathroom and dealing with his hangover, he put on his clothes and rushed to the classroom. The coffee that served as breakfast and kept him awake obviously made his bladder worse. The solution to all this is actually very simple. He just needs to say, "Oh, I can't hold it anymore. I have to go to the bathroom." But it is almost impossible for us to talk about peeing in front of the opposite sex. Especially when you are almost the only male here and you are surrounded by a person you know very well. He was wearing black sweatpants at the bottom. His legs were pinched tighter and tighter, but to no avail. Under the condition that he would not be seen under the table, he covered his left hand in his crotch from time to time, because this behavior is almost a sexual perversion in the eyes of the opposite sex. Of course, I saw the dramatic display of his left hand and legs. Just like the cartoon pictures of holding urine on the Internet, the hand seems to be grasping the penis through the middle of the two legs. This shape is very obvious on the sports pants. But the reality is never as simple as the description on the Internet. It seems that because of the different physiological deconstruction between men and women, it seems useless to grasp the "water pipe" in his lower body. It may be that all he can do is grasp the "water pipe" itself and cannot plug or press the "water pipe orifice". For example, when I am almost unable to hold my urine, I will subconsciously press my hands on my vagina to relieve the pain of holding my urine and prevent myself from leaking. But boys... They may be able to cover their lower bodies, but they may not have the same effect. Especially when he holds his urine to the extreme, he will have an erection. Although this can prevent them from urinating, it makes it more difficult to hold their urine. (What I said is only my own subjective understanding of the male urination system. Of course, it is not accurate.) Ah, that's disgusting. Just like why he was ashamed to express his needs, under our conservative stereotype, every girl would be disgusted with this behavior, and every boy would be ashamed to show his side in front of many girls. (except for very private moments) “The moment of excretion is the most vulnerable moment of a creature.” What I have described above only happened in 30 minutes. As a boy, he is naturally more suitable to express his needs directly than a girl who needs to maintain his dignified image. (stereotype) A small piece of his pants became darker because of urine leakage. It seemed that he had made a wrong decision: wet the front of his crotch with his "water pipe" facing up rather than down. In this way, he was simply telling everyone directly that I wet my pants. "I... I'll go to the toilet." He did realize that the problem was big enough. Quickly open the door and walk out of the classroom. Of course, he won't cover his crotch with his hand as he walks. It's like declaring "I'm a pervert and I'm about to leak.". What I have seen in animation will never happen to me. I settled down to study. It was not long before I realized that he had been out for nearly 30 minutes. Didn't he just pee? I closed my book and stretched out for a long breath. I also need a little rest. The classroom is on the east side of the teaching building. There are two girls' toilets at the door. I think I know why he left for so long, but not 30 minutes? When I entered the toilet, I heard two girls passing by the door discussing: "I just saw a boy go to the women's toilet by mistake, and then saw a girl and ran out." "Oh, they always make mistakes. Don't boys read the sign when they go to the bathroom?" Please forgive me for laughing. I imagined the story he had just experienced: He was too anxious to see that this side of the toilet was for girls, and then he thought that the other side of the toilet was for boys. When he stepped in with one foot and bumped into a girl who was preparing to come out, he suddenly realized his mistake and blushed. "I'm sorry, I read the sign wrong." I'm sure the girl was shocked, too. In recent years, many news reports have pointed out the bad behavior of some college boys: secretly taking pictures of girls' toilets, secretly taking pictures of girls' bathhouses, and drugging girls. It is almost 100% unforgivable for boys to break into girls' toilets, because girls are afraid and suspect that they will be secretly photographed by the mini cameras that boys set in advance. In our forum, there was a boy who was afraid of being mistaken for a voyeur because he entered the wrong toilet (but he didn't solve it inside, he just went to the door), so he quickly made a speech on the forum and said that he just went wrong accidentally, and was definitely not a voyeur who reported on the news. This fear is also reasonable, because if he is reported, he is likely to be asked to drop out of school. Of the four toilet cubicles, I always habitually choose the middle two. I squatted down and took off my underpants to enjoy the short break. When I got back to my seat after going to the bathroom, he had already come back. He tried his best to hide his embarrassment - he didn't solve it successfully. He was just looking for the toilet for more than 30 minutes. But apparently he found the wrong place. The entire east side from the first floor to the fifth floor is a completely female toilet. He only looked for it on each floor instead of looking to the west, which would give him the illusion of despair: there is no men's toilet here. What should the boys do! Or is it because the men's toilet is being cleaned and can't be used, or is there too many people in line? "So, shall we go out first?" He was trying to find other excuses to find the men's room without leaving me alone. Of course, he won't say that he didn't find the toilet and make everyone feel that he is not even as good as a kindergarten child. I have to admit that if I were him, I would probably do the same thing. "Of course, why not?" I need to help him without being aware of it. When he walked with me, the situation became worse. He almost twisted his legs and walked forward, slower than me. His hands moved about uncomfortably. Although I'm not him, I can imagine the difficulty of holding his urine until now: he needs to try his best to find a men's room to quickly solve the problem, he also needs to stretch his bladder with mental strength so that he won't explode, and he also needs to appear normal in front of the girls. This is almost a kind of spiritual "lingchi". I still couldn't help asking him, "what's up?" He seemed to muster up a lot of courage before saying, "do you know where there is a toilet?" Just as a friend of the opposite sex, his problems are good for him. But how embarrassed he would be if he were dating. "Why not go back to the teaching building and go to the bathroom?" "... well... Isn't there only a ladies' room?" He did go in the wrong direction, but now it seems inappropriate for me to remind him again. "There should be a public toilet in the supermarket over there, but..." He didn't even listen to me and hurried to the supermarket. When he got there, he realized what I hadn't finished: it was a simple public toilet with only one seat, and there were about 10 girls in line in front of him. I don't know whether this is a global problem or a regional problem. Many female sex groups don't have enough toilets for them to use. This problem has been improved a lot in the modern feminist movement. For example, when necessary, girls can temporarily "occupy" the men's toilet to alleviate the problem. For example, a girl can keep her boyfriend away from other men at the door so that she can have a place to pee. But until now, these problems still exist: as I described earlier. The girls in line do not appear to be in urgent need of urination. Irrational people will deliberately show their embarrassment unless you are a lover in this field. The girls just looked at their cell phones and stood silently in the queue. His entry was clearly out of place. And... He can't stand it for so long. He completely lost the image he had maintained in front of me. His legs were twisted together and he half bent down to make his penis shape less prominent in front of the public. "Is there any other toilet here? Men's room? I can't hold it." The tone of shyness completely changed to that of anxiety. From last night to now, boys seem to be able to hold on longer, but that doesn't mean they don't need to urinate. There are three choices in front of him: I know that there is a hidden forest in the school, and he can go there to solve it, or I know a deserted area with a small number of people, or he can directly ask these girls to let him use the toilet first. The last one seemed impossible, because a girl who needed to urinate begged him and successfully stood in front of him. It would be impolite to ask for his position again now. Because peeing in the woods is also considered as peeing in public. Once found, it will be like deliberately breaking into the women's toilet. He finally chose to go to the abandoned area to find the toilet, which is not far away. But when he really felt there, he was completely desperate: the little man sign in the men's room had long been changed to the women's room. There are only two women's toilets and no men's toilets. I went to the other side to pee. Of course, I can go to this side as well. The door opened eagerly, then it seemed that he lost his voice, and finally the continuous sound of running water hit the tiles and the pool. Until I came out, the sound of running water on the other side was still on and off. He came out slowly after two minutes and sighed. "So did you make it?" "Sort of." "Then I also need..." of course, I lied, not only to show that his urination was not embarrassing, but also to verify what just happened. His wet underwear in the garbage can, the small pool on the ground and the wall... He just rushed into the toilet compartment and took off his pants in a hurry, but he didn't have time to take off his underwear. But the inner relaxation made the "water valve" of his lower body completely open. The urine hits the underpants. He tried to take off his pants, but his underwear was completely wet. He tried to ignore what had happened, but the movement of his lower body was too obvious without his underwear. After that, I suddenly realized that although I was a lesbian, I also had some interest in the face of boys holding their urine and urinating. Maybe I will have a chance to see more stories like today, in an environment like our school. ----------------------------------------------------------------- So this is just one of the many stories I want to tell. If you really like it and want to hear more stories, please leave a message below. I will decide whether to update new stories, boys or girls, according to everyone's response and my own time.
  23. What kind of clothes do you find the best to wet in? Tight pants like shorts and jeans? Or loose fitting skirts and pajamas? Same applies to underwear, briefs, panties, boxers, etc. A question for any and all genders as well.
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